Battle Los Angeles: Deep Rising
by Drgyen
Summary: One-shot spiel of a Lovecraftian version of Battle Los Angeles. Authored by B Munro and published on Alternate History Dot Com.


**Author**: Inspired by "32 Insane Movie Ideas Built Out of Existing Movie Title" from Crack Dot Com.

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THIS PREVIEW HAS BEEN RATED R

(A news show, the weather segment. The weatherman stands in front of the projection of North America, which seems to be outlined by a fuzzy white line.)

**Weatherman**: "The unusually dense and unseasonal fogs which have appeared at dozens of locations along U.S. shores have baffled experts."

(The view cuts away to a bearded, eye-glass wearing gentleman. At the bottom of the picture the words "_Richard Molesworth, Emeritus Professor of Climatology and Oceanography_" are displayed. )

**Professor Molesworth**: "Frankly, gentlemen, we're baffled."

**Reporter**: "Do you think this may be an effect of global warming?"

**Professor Molesworth** [looking annoyed]: "We can't rule anything out at this point, but it's hard to think of a causal connection."

(We return to the studio)

"Apparently, Ann, these fogs have appeared not just along U.S. coasts, but elsewhere all around the world."

"That's fascinating, George. Now over to Lucia Montes in Los Angeles."

(A beach scene. An attractive newswoman stands in front of a milling crowd of people in beach attire. The background is swathed in thick fog, through which the ocean can hardly be seen).

**Lucia**: "As you can see, the unusual weather has not prevented many beachgoers from coming out today. In fact, a great many people have come outside today simply out of curiosity about the…"

(Suddenly, there is some kind of disturbance in the background. There are screams. The camera swings to one side – there is a glimpse of a dark shape hopping or bounding past. It shakily swings back to Lucia.)

**Lucia**: "So-something is coming out of the water. Things moving, fast – can't really see in the fog...someone seems to have fainted, or fallen…or…"

**Cameraman's voice**: "Look behind you!"

(We see the camera, swinging back and forth between the reporter and the fog-obscured sea. The ocean is _bulging_ monstrously, rising up over some unseen shape.)

(There is a pained grunt. The camera falls to the ground.)

**Lucia**: "_Oh my God_…"

(Shrieks, confused noises, a hideous roaring. The camera shows sand, fog, a pair of running legs. Then something huge and dark and scaly comes down in front of the Camera. A second later, only static)

(Soldiers at a briefing. The officer in charge looks sweaty, uneasy.)

**A Soldier**: "Sir! Pardon me, but you haven't really made it clear_ who _we are fighting in Los Angeles."

**The Officer**: "Frankly, we don't know _what_ we are fighting, soldier. And I use _what _rather than who rather deliberately."

(Some sort of important command center. Lots of electronic gear, screens with displays of the U.S. and other parts of the world, people in uniforms running about.)

**General-type with lots of medals**: "I'm afraid we are overstretched at best. The enemy has launched attacks at twenty coastal cities, as well as emerging at several cities in the American heartland, having apparently moved up the Mississippi river undetected. We can expect no help from abroad: intelligence indicates they have launched simultaneous attacks on fifteen other major nations, including India, Japan, China, France, the UK and Russia."

**Important Looking Civilian**: "My Lord. Just how many of them are they?"

**General**: "Our latest estimates are several hundred million, not counting their, err, "pets." And they keep revising the estimates upwards."

(Back in the briefing room)

**The Officer**: "Your job is a rescue mission. You will be retrieving a man who has what we believe to be valuable data on the enemy. He, and a few others, are as of latest reports holed up in the University of Southern California, Los Angeles…"

(Some of the soldiers we saw earlier, gearing up.)

**Another Soldier**: "A big-ass flamethrower for every third man? Shit. I purely _hate_ fighting monsters."

(A helicopter, going low and slow between buildings. Fog hides everything more than a hundred feet or so away. Some of the buildings look like they have been torn open, their innards spilling onto the streets.)

**Fearless Leader**: "Why are we flying so low, officer? With instrument flying we should be able to maneuver in the fog at a safer height."

**Pilot**: "This isn't a normal fog. It messes with electronics something fierce. Also, we're less likely at this height to run into – _ah_."

(The helicopter jerks sideways. Soldiers complain in various scatological and R-rated ways.)

**Pilot**: "One of _those_."

(Fearless Leader looks in the direction his finger points. Nearby, draped over the top of a building, are slowly squirming green ropes – which hang impossibly from the sky, a hundred plus feet up to the edge of vision, and beyond…)

(Soldiers cautiously proceed through foggy streets. Everything seems slick and moist. Some battered cars lie on their backs. Fearless Leader pauses, summons his second-in command.)

**Fearless Leader** [whispering]: "Did you see something…_move_ on top of those roofs ahead?"

(The camera follows their gaze to the roofs of smallish office buildings, bulking dark against the fog).

**Experienced but Sick of War Second in Command**: "Well, I think…"

(Two, three dark shapes bound through the air from one rooftop to another, leaping like frogs. Neither the shape of their limbs or that of their bodies is human)

**EBSOWSIC**: "…we are _definitely_ in Indian country now."

(Another soldier, looking pleased)

"Hey, they're like zombies! Shoot them in the head, and they stop trying to get up!"

(Soldiers, retreating with covering fire down a misty street. As they pass the mouth of an alley, something black and slick and shapeless shoots out and snatches a soldier away like the tongue of a chameleon snatching a fly.)

(A darkened office. A tall, spindly academic type is arguing with Fearless Leader, who is looking rather stressed.)

**Academic**: "We have to leave them behind. They'll only slow us down, and we must get my materials to your superiors."

**Fearless Leader**: "I'm not abandoning them to those…_things_. If need be, we'll split into two parties."

(The academic positively snarls. He spins to a nearby desk, where sit a black attaché case and a book with a dark, lumpy binding. He jabs a finger at the book. We see it has what look like Arabic letters on its leathery cover, highlighted in gold.)

**Academic**: "This book is worth more than my life, officer. It's worth more than their lives, or that of your entire platoon. And _this_…"

(He raises the attaché case.)

**Academic**: "This is worth more than several battalions."

(Several soldiers slowly back up. Each has a flamethrower going full blast. Each has an expression of profound horror and disgust.)

(We pull back from a shot of the Academic's blank, sagging-jawed face. He is pinned to a wall by a spear, curiously shaped and encrusted by organic-looking growths. The EBSOWSIC is crouched in front of the open attaché case, an expression of puzzlement on his face.)

**EBSOWSIC**: "What the…"

(He lifts out a curious object, seemingly made of greenish, shining soapstone. It is five-pointed and looks a bit like a stone starfish.)

(The remains of the platoon pause at a corner, looking down the foggy street. Why they have paused is revealed by the heavy THUMP we hear next. The soldiers pull back around the corner, peering cautiously.)

(There is another thump, and then another. And then _something_ steps out from behind one of the buildings in the distance. It is hideous, warty, slimy, vaguely frog-like, scaly and vaguely fish-like, with great bulging black eyes and long arms ending in oversize webbed, clawed hands that almost drag on the ground. It is also over seven stories tall.)

**Designated Female Soldier**: "F***. They went and got their big brother."

(Darkness. Luminous green letters appear on the screen).

"_I cannot think of the deep sea without shuddering at the nameless things that may at this very moment be crawling and floundering on its slimy bed, worshipping their ancient stone idols and carving their own detestable likenesses on submarine obelisks of water-soaked granite. I dream of a day when they may rise above the billows to drag down in their reeking talons the remnants of puny, war-exhausted mankind - of a day when the land shall sink, and the dark ocean floor shall ascend amidst universal pandemonium_."  
- H.P. Lovecraft, _"Dagon"_.

(Movie title drop appears).

**BATTLE LOS ANGELES: DEEP RISING**


End file.
